. Spring again clothed her home with beauty, but there came
no spring to her heart. Summer brought joy and gladness to the earth,
but not to her, and another autumn closed over her in anxious suspense.
There were moments when she could almost have prayed to have that dread
silence broken even by a voice from the tomb--other times in which she
threw herself on her knees in thankfulness that she could yet hope. From
Major Scott she had heard that Captain Percy's regiment had been sent to
the South, but of him individually even Major Scott knew nothing. At
length came the eighth of January, that day of vain triumph on which
thousands fell in the contest for rights already lost and won--the
treaty of peace having been signed at Ghent on the twenty-fourth of the
preceding month. Forgetful of this useless hecatomb at war's relentless
shrine, America echoed the gratulations of the victors which fell with
scathing power on the heart of the trembling Mary. How could she hope
that he, the fearless soldier, had escaped this scene of slaughter! If
he had, surely he would now find some way to inform her of his safety,
but weeks passed on, and passed still in silence.

During this long period of suspense, no doubt of the tenderness and
truth of him she loved had ever sullied Mary's faith. Mr. Sinclair was
not always thus confiding, and once, on seeing the deadly pallor that
overspread her face on hearing the announcement of "no letters"--he
uttered words of keen reproach on him who could so wrong her gentle
heart.

"Oh, father!" Mary exclaimed, "speak not thus--be assured it is not his
fault--remember that no license could tempt him to wrong the
defenceless--think how honorable he was in suppressing his own feelings
lest their avowal should bring sorrow on us--and when my self-betrayal
unsealed his lips, how delicate to me, how generous to you was his
conduct--and who but he could have been so rigid in his observance of a
soldier's duty, yet so inexpressibly tender as a man! I loved him
because I saw him thus true and noble--and having seen him thus how can
I doubt him? He may be no longer on earth, but wherever he is, he is my
true and noble husband, and you will not again distress me, dear father,
by speaking as though you doubted him."

"Never," said Mr. Sinclair emphatically, and he never did, though he saw
her form grow thinner, and her cheek paler every day, and before the
winter was gone heard that deep, hollow cough from he